Forgive me father for I have sinned. I stole four planks of wood from a woman, I don’t really know why. I’ve written it out as a story for you. The story is called
the woman with the four planks of wood
I was on the train home from work when I spotted her on the platform. She had four planks of wood and was arranging them into a neat stack. Once satisfied with her preparations she hoisted the planks up on to her shoulder as deftly as a majorette swinging a baton, scanned the platform for directions, and headed off briskly towards the exit, the four planks jutting up high in the air over her head.
I was miles from my stop but I leapt off the train right away and followed her. She strutted out of the West exit and headed off down Station Road barging through the late evening crowds of post-work drinkers. So nonchalant was this young woman she didn’t seem to be aware she had four planks of wood on her shoulder, and her awkward load was often within inches of clocking someone in the face. Many people turned to stare, and not just because of the four planks of wood. She was striking. Small and trim, she had sharp black bobbed hair with a purple streak down one side and was wearing a black and white checked dress with black and white diamond patterned tights and black shiny shoes. On her head, nestling against the four planks, was a black beret with a white button on the top.
All of a sudden, without warning, she turned down towards the quay, nearly smashing a flower basket off a shop’s awning as her planks swept round with her, and she went into a pub called the Blue Boar.
I went in after her.
She rested the four planks of wood against the bar and ordered a large glass of red wine, selecting a heavy bodied Australian Shiraz from a list recited by the barman.
‘Are we in the function room?’ she asked the barman.
‘Yes,’ he said.
I watched her ascend a flight of stairs then I bought a half of Leffe, climbed up after her, and found myself in a gloomy, dusty corridor. A handwritten sign on a door said ‘IN HERE’ so I went in. The woman was talking with a couple of men who had bits of paper in their hands. They were listening to what she was saying and writing things down. The four planks of wood had been laid on a low stage and a spot light was shining on them. A small table and a cash box had been set up near the door and the young man sitting behind it asked me if it was just one, and I said yes, and handed over a ten pound note.
I got eight pounds back.
Whatever I was about to experience it was cheap.
The chairs had been laid out theatre style and apart from the woman who had brought the planks and the men with the pieces of paper and the man on the door I was the only one there. The woman disappeared around the back with the two men and I sat and looked at the four planks of wood on the low stage. A microphone on a stand was aiming down at them.
I looked at the four planks of wood and drank my Leffe slowly. I didn’t want to run to the expense of another drink, but nearly an hour went by and nothing happened. No-one else paid to come in, and there was no sign of the woman again, or of the men with the pieces of paper. I looked behind me to find that the little table had gone too, as had the man who had taken my money.
There was only me and the planks of wood in the room.
So I grabbed the planks of wood and ran for it.
I got home and laid the planks out on the floor. Luckily one of the young woman’s business cards was stapled to one of them. Her name was Valerie Pilkington and there was a number.
‘Hello,’ said Valerie Pilkington.
‘Hello?’ I said.
‘Hello?’ she said back.
‘I have your wood,’ I said.
There was a long and epic silence that seemed to go on forever. I sat it out, but she didn’t hang up and the pause went on for so long that eventually I gave in and put down the phone. I looked at the receiver. She would ring me back, I knew it. One day she would do that, but in the meantime I took the planks of wood out to the garage, lashed them together with string and attached a note saying do not burn.
the woman with the four planks of wood
I was on the train home from work when I spotted her on the platform. She had four planks of wood and was arranging them into a neat stack. Once satisfied with her preparations she hoisted the planks up on to her shoulder as deftly as a majorette swinging a baton, scanned the platform for directions, and headed off briskly towards the exit, the four planks jutting up high in the air over her head.
I was miles from my stop but I leapt off the train right away and followed her. She strutted out of the West exit and headed off down Station Road barging through the late evening crowds of post-work drinkers. So nonchalant was this young woman she didn’t seem to be aware she had four planks of wood on her shoulder, and her awkward load was often within inches of clocking someone in the face. Many people turned to stare, and not just because of the four planks of wood. She was striking. Small and trim, she had sharp black bobbed hair with a purple streak down one side and was wearing a black and white checked dress with black and white diamond patterned tights and black shiny shoes. On her head, nestling against the four planks, was a black beret with a white button on the top.
All of a sudden, without warning, she turned down towards the quay, nearly smashing a flower basket off a shop’s awning as her planks swept round with her, and she went into a pub called the Blue Boar.
I went in after her.
She rested the four planks of wood against the bar and ordered a large glass of red wine, selecting a heavy bodied Australian Shiraz from a list recited by the barman.
‘Are we in the function room?’ she asked the barman.
‘Yes,’ he said.
I watched her ascend a flight of stairs then I bought a half of Leffe, climbed up after her, and found myself in a gloomy, dusty corridor. A handwritten sign on a door said ‘IN HERE’ so I went in. The woman was talking with a couple of men who had bits of paper in their hands. They were listening to what she was saying and writing things down. The four planks of wood had been laid on a low stage and a spot light was shining on them. A small table and a cash box had been set up near the door and the young man sitting behind it asked me if it was just one, and I said yes, and handed over a ten pound note.
I got eight pounds back.
Whatever I was about to experience it was cheap.
The chairs had been laid out theatre style and apart from the woman who had brought the planks and the men with the pieces of paper and the man on the door I was the only one there. The woman disappeared around the back with the two men and I sat and looked at the four planks of wood on the low stage. A microphone on a stand was aiming down at them.
I looked at the four planks of wood and drank my Leffe slowly. I didn’t want to run to the expense of another drink, but nearly an hour went by and nothing happened. No-one else paid to come in, and there was no sign of the woman again, or of the men with the pieces of paper. I looked behind me to find that the little table had gone too, as had the man who had taken my money.
There was only me and the planks of wood in the room.
So I grabbed the planks of wood and ran for it.
I got home and laid the planks out on the floor. Luckily one of the young woman’s business cards was stapled to one of them. Her name was Valerie Pilkington and there was a number.
‘Hello,’ said Valerie Pilkington.
‘Hello?’ I said.
‘Hello?’ she said back.
‘I have your wood,’ I said.
There was a long and epic silence that seemed to go on forever. I sat it out, but she didn’t hang up and the pause went on for so long that eventually I gave in and put down the phone. I looked at the receiver. She would ring me back, I knew it. One day she would do that, but in the meantime I took the planks of wood out to the garage, lashed them together with string and attached a note saying do not burn.
